


Wiped

by eggzz



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Homestuck
Genre: Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, a heavy helping of binary and glitch text, and leaning heavily on settings, first chapter is basically me rewriting 'from the dead' w markus, it says dbh as one of the fandoms but really im just ripping the android concept, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-09-27 21:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggzz/pseuds/eggzz
Summary: With no memories about how he ended up alone, afraid and stripped of his identity, Hal has to rely on Dirk to find himself again... or at least gain a family trying.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a fic that literally no one asked for but i wanted to post anyway because damn i put so much effort into a 3am thought. if you saw the tags then you know exactly whats coming, thank you in advance for indulging me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a fic that literally no one asked for but i wanted to post anyway because damn i put so much effort into a 3am thought. if you saw the tags then you know exactly whats coming, thank you in advance for indulging me

When he wakes up, the world is dark and he can’t feel anything. Fear is the first feeling that reaches him in those first few moments, curling through his chest and gut in uncomfortable waves. He clings to the bright red text that flickers into his vision, blaring in warning.

_ AUDIO MALFUNCTION _

_ MISSING LEFT COMPONENT #4903 _

_ INPUT AT 50% _

As suddenly as it appears, the text leaves and his right side is bombarded with a long and pitched ringing, enough to send him jolting in the opposite direction to try and escape the auditory feedback. It doesn't help, but the movement triggers a sensory response to his body, telling him that his orientation is face down in something cold and thick. He lifts his head to pull himself from the uncomfortable sludge, body creaking in protest. The ringing starts to subside when he hauls his face up, the pattering of rain taking its place.

Text blinks across his hazy vision again when heat blooms from his chest.

_ COOLING VALVE OBSTRUCTED _

_ ATTEMPTING TO EXPEL _

His core tightens with no warning past that message, squeezing until he coughs up the cold, thick substance in solid increments. When he can finally focus his eyes he sees that he had been facedown in mud. Somehow he had swallowed it while laying there and now a small mound of the expelled grime sits before him.

He doesn't recognise his location when he observes his surroundings, finding that he’s surrounded by piles and piles of different limbs. Eyes, legs, arms and even chest cavities all surround him, their white colour tarnished by the mud that splashes up with the rain. In the corner of his vision, he can see another notification.

_ THIRIUM LEVEL 6% _

_ LOW POWER MODE INITIALIZED _

He isn’t certain what Thirium actually is, but it seems to be important enough that he can’t function at a higher capacity without it. He needs to find more, if that’s the case. Sensation starts to come back to him when he attempts to reach in front of him to gain some leverage to lift his body, the soft mud lacing through his fingers when he grips at the wet earth. Seeing his hand reach out, he notices the pale white colour peeking out from places where the rain has started to wash away the mud. Fear rears its ugly head again and curls in his lower abdomen as he takes note of the limbs around him a second time. 

It's painstaking to lift himself into a higher position, taking a toll on sluggish body with every minute movement. Still, he persists until he's mobile enough to stumble to his feet and shamble forward, investigating this strange environment for clues as to how he got here. Some of the parts twitch to life as he brushes past them, but it seems to be a rudimentary response rather than an intelligent one. He investigates with no small amount of caution, particularly when he goes deeper and starts to find heads to match the arms and legs from before. Some of these are still active too, opening their blank eyes and attempting to speak. At best it’s garbled and distorted static, but their eyes… he sees the same fear permeating his own body. He tries to move along as quickly as possible.

He has an idea of where he is by now, but no words to properly name it. A grave would be too simple a term.

Among all the parts a more definite movement that startles him, coming from over on his right where he can actually hear. The slapping of mud mixed with the clattering of plastic; someone looking through the piles of bodies. From what he can see in the dark, he knows they're different. A clothed jacket obscures their face, but he can see the darker shade of their skin from their hands that work dexterously to sort through the limbs.

He isn't sure what to do– what he _ should _do. The figure is clearly unlike him, but he's already so lost, he can't imagine how things could be worse. So, he takes a few tottering steps towards the stranger, watching as their head snaps up in his direction.

Their face is… soft, framed by platinum hair that’s trapped under the hood of their jacket and with orange eyes that stand out against their tan skin. Their mouth is pulled down into a small frown, but there's more surprise than intent to hurt.

They open their mouth and speak as they straighten out their posture, approaching with trepidation. "State your model."

He has no idea what that means. He opens his own mouth to reply, but a warning message hijacks his mouth. "Intake of Thirium 310 is recommended immediately. Please refer to manufacturer instructions for details."

The man sighs to himself and seems to lose his caution, striding up and inspecting him more closely. "You alive in there? Nod for yes, shake for no." He demonstrates the movements as he says them and smiles a fraction when he gets a nod. "Alright… You’re losing a lot of blood, you won’t last long out here like that. If you can, follow me and I'll get you patched up. It's only up the ditch."

He doesn't see any reason not to trust the stranger so far, so he follows as best he can. There are slips and trips, but the man is accommodating enough to help him out before he can reach the ground in most cases. The upwards slope is the hardest part, demanding most of his remaining energy to scale. When they reach the top his legs give out unwillingly, prompting a new warning message.

_ THIRIUM LEVELS CRITICAL _

_ SHUTDOWN IN 4:59… _

The time ticks down in front of him in a bold and obnoxious text, but he can still see the way the man’s face contorts in panic just behind it. He wasn’t aware of speaking the alert out loud, but his senses are fading already, numbing the world around him until all he can see, hear and feel is a dense overlay of static.

There's a vehicle not too far from them that the man runs to, throwing open a door and searching around inside for approximately 30 seconds before returning with a package filled with bright blue liquid and a roll of material. He hands the liquid to him and makes a motion of tipping his head back with his mouth open.

_ 3:59… _

He follows the motion obediently, holding the package over his mouth in waiting. Nothing happens until the man removes some sort of cap and then the liquid pours out, running into his mouth and down his throat. His cooling functions stop momentarily and another part clicks into place, helping the fluid down towards his center. His body begins to thrum with new life.

As he does this, the man unfurls the material in his hands and wraps around his revitalised body several times before tying it off. "It's not pretty, but it'll do for now," he mutters.

_ STABILIZING _

_ THIRIUM LEVEL 13% _

The control he has over his body is already a night and day difference to earlier. He’s able to lower the pouch from his lips with fluid ease and offer it back to the man.

“Alright,” the man murmurs, returning to his vehicle and placing the used pouch inside. He hesitates at the door, pinning a stare in his direction. “You just gonna stand in the rain? Come on, get in. Need to get you back for some proper repairs before you bleed out again. Those bandages won’t hold.”

He follows the order, standing easily and opening the door on the opposite side. He watches the man get in and tries to mirror his actions, settling into the seat, closing his door and pulling a seatbelt over his chest to buckle in.

“Do you have a name?” the man asks, pausing with his hands on the ignition key.

It’s a good question, but not one that he has an answer to. “I am uncertain.” Curiosity prods at him. “Do _ you _have a name?”

The man offers a short nod. “Dirk. I’d suggest initiating recovery mode, then maybe we can put a name to you.”

Dirk turns the key, starting the car and accelerating hard enough to get traction on the boggy ground. He drives around the rim of the ditch, exiting the plot of land through a beaten up chain link fence.

“Why did you come here?” he asks Dirk, unsure how to follow his previous suggestion.

Dirk jumps at his voice, perhaps not expecting it, and gives a short glance his way. “That’s not important. Why haven’t you entered recovery mode? It’ll help us both if you do.”

“I do not know how to.”

Dirk’s frown deepens and rather than telling him how, he flips down a mirror concealed in the roof of the car on the passenger side. “There’s a physical switch behind your neck for manual restarts. Locate it and push it for me.”

It’s the first time he can really take in his own appearance since waking up. The white ‘skin’ that he observed earlier is the main feature of his body, segmenting in places to indicate the different parts of him that can be removed and replaced. Compared to the detail of Dirk’s skin he looks more like a blank slate, but he can see some likeness to him in the structure of his features, with a sharp jaw and a similarly angular nose, though unlike Dirk, his eyes are almost an inverse in colour; black fills where whites should be and instead of orange he holds red in his irises.

His sleek fingers reach up, feeling around the back of his head as Dirk instructed and he finds an indent that he can push into. As soon as pressure is applied, his arm falls and his body becomes immobile, though he’s still fully aware of everything around him.

_ DATA RECOVERY INITIALIZED… _

_ FILE CORRUPTION DETECTED _

_ 01010010 01000101 01010000 01000001 01001001 01010010 01001001 01001110 01000111 0͓0̈̃1͙ͨ0̦̱̋1̪̺͍1̻͑ͦ̒1̰̼ͣ̾0̥͓̩̖̎ ̜͗͌ͥ̚0̤͙ͤ́ͤ͑0̬̙̰͆ͫ̃1̮͚̉͆̑̐̚0̥̗̜̺͓ͯ͒1̜̜̟̗͗̏́1̲̺͔̿ͤ̿͗̆1̰̞̑̆ͦ͆͌̎0͌͌ͨͩ͋ͣ̈̿ ̣̊̆̌ͩ̍̊̅͌0͚̥̩̏ͣ͆̔̔̅0̻̗̘̞̈͂ͫ̌ͅ1̪̼̈̏ͣͣ̑̚ͅ0̦̝͎̜̹ͯ͆͒̚1̱̏̀ͪ͗ͮ̈́̃ͅ1̖͔̝̖͓̂̑ͥͪ1̝̝͇̞͒̔̊̒ͅ0̩̫̜͑͆̃ͧͫ́ ̺̬̟̱̝̝̗ͩ͋0̺̗̹̤̗ͨ́̆́0̯̦̪ͮ͑̔̅́͊1̮̺̩̜̝̉̇ͭͤ0͚͍̙̻ͨͮ͗ͪͅ0͖̪̈́ͤ͛̈ͪ̈ͥ0͈̼̐ͣ̊ͨ͌͂0͎̜͙̫̂͒ͭͣ0̪̦̬̅̄͒͊̚ ̼̣̼̋ͣ̊͊̌0͚͓̋ͦ̏̌ͮ1̖͈̜̤̃̂̚0̔̈́ͤ̒͒ͯ0͙ͯ͌̅ͮ͋0̝͚̄͌̚1͇̘̿́ͨ1̗͊͛́̉0̲̊̋̌ ͐̎ͤ0̫̌ͤ1̒͌0͉̂0͒0ͧ001 01001001 01001100 01000101 01000100 00001010 00001010 01001110 01001111 01010100 01001000 01001001 01001110 01000111 00100000 01010100 01001111 ̭0̣͍0̒̍1̖͐̅0̄̒̌0̲͈̰̾0̲̏́͂0̼̞̈́̄͌0̩͚͕ͨ̏ ̰̬ͨ̿ͦͬ0͈̟̯͚ͤ̓1̯̺̙̆ͣͧ0̗̝̉̎̔̋̐1͈̫̌̈́̈́̿ͅ0̮̣ͬͣ͐͒ͣ0̞̦͕̪̠͍̿1̼̤͉̃̅͌̾̊0͓͇̳̺͔͕̄̿ ̮͙̮̭ͩͫ̄ͅ0͇͓̮̥̟̝̽ͧ1͈̪̜ͬͦ̏͆ͅ0̟̻̲͐̒͐̇̃0͕̤̟ͥ͋̑̀0͍͓̞̣̎ͪ̑1͓̭̗̳̇̏̈́0̣̻̺͑ͮ͛ͫ1͎͓̿̐̀ͭ͐ ̪͖̜̍̂̉0̼̠̼̮͐ͧ1̫͚̭͂̈0̖͉͛ͮͧ0̝͎ͮ͛͐0̩͒ͥ̂0̗̤͇͌1̮͒ͮ1̒͛̐ ̣̅0͖1̹001111 01010110 01000101 01010010 _

_ EMERGENCY RESTART... _

The world blinks before him in an instant. One moment he’s sitting in the car, viewing the dark stretch of road ahead of him and in the next he’s cast into another unfamiliar environment. Dirk is perched on a chair in front of him, watching with interest as his startup procedures begin. The room surrounding him is crowded with parts that he recognises from the ditch he woke up in, though they’re all pristine and carefully organised into particular shelves for corresponding parts.

He looks down to find that he’s been placed on a bench and has various wires coiling around his body, hooking into ports he can’t see. The same startup text filling his vision is displayed on a monitor next to him.

MODEL Ḣ̵̛̲͚̊͆͘A̸̡̱͎͂̀̔7̷͎͚̈̅̈́0̷̨͚͎̦̺́̓0̷̯̖͊̄̚

SERIAL#: 4̷̰̾̌7̴̨̕͜2̴̥̳͋̇-̷͖̏̾7̸̨̛̤4̶̟̻͐̃7̶̮̂-̵̂̎͜3̸̡̝̓6̴͕͘6̷̖͈͗

BIOS 7.3 UPDATE FAILED

VERSION 6.12 REVISION 0124

LOADING OS…

**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION… OK**

**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK**

**INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK**

**INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK**

MEMORY STATUS…

**ERROR ** **FAILED  
**

READY

“I gotta wonder how an android fucks their memory so bad that a manual recovery can’t fix it,” Dirk comments casually, leaning back in his chair. His hands are painted in blue splotches and streaks that reach up his forearm, but he doesn’t seem to care about the clothes he’s staining when he wipes his hands over them. “But you’re back online now. Replaced that audio receptor, patched some holes in your framework, transfused a _ shit _ton of Thirium… you’re practically a new man. Welcome back, Hal.”

“Hal?” he questions.

Dirk nods, bowing his head. “Took to callin’ you that while I was working, ‘cause of your eyes,” he replies, pointing to his own for emphasis. “Technically they're defective, but they still function and I wasn’t sure what model you are. The chances of finding compatible parts for such a specific model-by-model component were slim, so I didn’t change them. Hope you don't mind."

He doesn't mind at all. "Would you like me to be known as Hal from now on?"

Dirk rolls a shoulder. "If you like it, then sure."

Hal isn't sure why he wouldn't like it, but he keeps that to himself. "My name is Hal," he says, the words almost pulled from his body, making his designation official.

Having a name is immediately comforting, offering stability and something _ known _when everything else around him is so foreign. Dirk used the word 'android' earlier in reference to Hal as well, so by quick deduction that is what he must be. Judging by his surroundings and the talk of extensive repairs to Hal's body, it’s obvious that Dirk is somewhat of an expert on the subject.

“Y’know, you can reapply your skin anytime, too,” Dirk mentions. “I saw you didn’t have basic commands in your system anymore so I tried to set up an interface that should be in your field of vision. Placed it in the file labelled maintenance, hopefully your memory drive retained that, at least.”

Hal had noticed a few items just in his peripheral but hadn’t been able to tell what they were previously. He trains his eyes on the digital file and it opens for him after a few seconds, spilling out into the rest of his vision and showering him with an array of options ranging from different diagnostic checks to the personalisation option he assumes Dirk was talking about.

His eyes drift over the different tabs, opening each and considering his choices slowly. It appears his body has a basic format when it comes to his appearance, but there are some things he can change such as skin tone, hair colour and what would be eye colour if his eyes weren’t defective as Dirk pointed out. His sample pool of how he should look is limited to the man sitting in front of him, so it’s no surprise that Hal picks a shade for his skin and hair that matches Dirk with incredible accuracy.

The interface falls away and his body tingles as the information spreads through each part of him. Hal lifts an arm to watch as the stark white polymer is flooded with a material that almost resembles liquid, though it settles and hardens over his limbs as fast as it appeared. The result is a convincing imitation of skin that feels slightly pliable when he pushes his fingers against it.

Dirk fixes him with a curious stare, leaning in to get a closer look at him. Up this close, Hal can see blue in the orange of his irises that flicker and shift and for a moment he starts to think his assumptions about Dirk different had been wrong. Dirk must notice, because a grin tugs at his lips.

“Contacts,” he states simply, crushing Hal’s forming theory. “Really useful to have when my hands are full. They have augmented reality capabilities to give me real time information on what I’m looking at, not too far off from what some of the more advanced androids can do. For example, your skin uses a different formula to other androids. Might mean you’re an older model? Could explain the memory issues and why your BIOS update failed. Probably discontinued.”

“I do not have the information available to answer that question, though that does seem to be a likely scenario. If you are not an android, then what are you?” Hal asks, wishing he was capable of analysis in real time as Dirk is.

“Human, unfortunately,” Dirk chuckles. Hal cocks his head in questioning. “Unlike androids, humans break down pretty easily and it’s a bitch to replace parts. No such thing as plugging in a new heart and running a marathon an hour later. We probably wouldn’t have built androids if things were that easy.”

“Your kind is responsible for my creation?” Dirk nods in confirmation to Hal. “I suppose that would explain my appearance and your proficiency in repairing me. Thank you for not allowing me to shut down.”

Dirk’s laughter comes out in a short huff. “No problem, dude. Hey, how about I hook you up to the internet? I know you’re probably curious about everything, but I dunno if I can answer every question you might have. If you’re comfortable there I can plug you in now.”

“I see no reason to move,” Hal answers. 

Dirk pushes out of his chair with an easy grin on his lips and leaves the room momentarily, returning with a thick cable in his grasp. He drops the bundle down onto the table with Hal, reaching up behind his neck with one end of the cable and finding a place to plug it in. To Hal it doesn’t feel like much other than slight pressure, but when Dirk plugs the other end into the wall it begins to buzz.

He drags his chair to his computer and after a few clicks Hal suddenly feels like his mind has opened up and has no boundaries. His vision blinks and there’s a browser in his face, waiting for him to search for something.

“I have some work to do, so go nuts,” Dirk instructs. “If you want a place to start, maybe try searching ‘android’?”

Hal nods once and enters the word, finding over 10,000,000,000,000 results when the engine loads. He scours them at a rapid pace, finding that he’s able to absorb the information on each page in a matter of seconds. Some pages cover the same information previously acquired, so he skims them and only updates relevant information that he doesn’t already have. By the time an hour has passed, he’s filed away over five hundred gigabytes of information in the form of text and has moved swiftly from the topic of androids to multi-viewing topics such as human psychological practices, general world history events and various forms of internet humour.

From beyond the multiple web pages he’s viewing he notices Dirk let loose a loud yawn, stretching and standing as he does so. He looks content when he glances over at Hal and mentions something about sleep, but Hal is too deep in learning about animal domestication and plant propagation to give it too much mind. When Dirk leaves, he simply continues to learn.

He understands rain and the vital part it plays in the world, but also finds that most humans can't stand getting caught out in it. He learns that his geographical location coincides with the season of winter, when humans hate the rain the most because of its biting chill. His thoughts wander back to Dirk, wondering what compelled him to be outside when temperatures haven’t been above 37.4° Fahrenheit (3° Celsius, as other parts of the world would read it).

When he feels sufficiently full with data he follows the ethernet cable plugged into his port with a delicate touch and tugs it out while pinching the end to release it. His mind goes quiet, no longer buzzing with the electricity supplied through the cord.

He has no clear memories about how he landed in that android dumping site, but running into Dirk was probably the best thing he could have hoped for, even if he didn’t know it at the time. He’s been given a second chance, a new lease on life that he hasn’t worked out how to repay Dirk for yet.

With that in mind, the smart thing to do here would be to leave his past behind him, but… there’s an itch that’s burning beneath his synthetic skin, one that started from the moment he hooked up to the internet to relearn this world. He should ignore it for his own safety and happiness, but deep down he wants to know. Wants to find out what happened to him.

He stumbled onto an old saying while he had been researching that said ‘curiosity killed the cat’...

It should be another reason to steer him away, to drop the subject entirely and move on, but interestingly, a relatively recent variation of the saying occurred a little over a century ago to include a rejoinder.

‘But satisfaction brought it back’.

Hal decides that he enjoys this version much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo so like if anyone likes this and wants more.... or even if anyone's like "hell, i like this concept too, yoink!" i would be so down for it! thank you again and feedback is vital for me so... a kudos? comment? <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal investigates the home and has a few questions for Dirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyy so i've still been really into this idea so i buckled down and wrote a chapter two!! thank you to the people who commented and left kudos, i'm glad there are some people reading! a bit of a rating change for the fic, too, just 'cause of some heavier implications later on

The layout of the house is simplistic and easy for Hal to map out. One full lap and he has every detail of the apartment memorised, from the number of doors and windows down to the cracks forming in the paint by the roof and little cobwebs hiding away in those spaces.

It’s not what would generally be called ‘nice’ by most; there’s a lot of clutter and mess out in the open that seems to give a wide berth around Dirk’s workshop, but it is… cosy. Simple. A little polishing to buff out those sore spots and the apartment could hold some value as something vintage. Hardwood floors that aren’t imitation wood are something of a rarity these days, after all.

By his third lap around the living area the mess is beginning to bother him, so he picks up a nearby trashcan and piles in soda bottles and disposable utensils that have various meals from the past two weak still clinging to them. The trashcan fills alarmingly fast, but not so much that he can’t tie off the bag and leave it to take out later. He doesn’t have any particular interest in the cleaning that he’s doing, but it feels like a service of gratitude towards Dirk. Keeping focused on the idea that Dirk will appreciate what he’s doing motivates him to continue, collecting plates that need to be manually washed.

It doesn’t feel like he was made to do this at all–trying to wash dishes without cracking the ceramic in his grip shows as much–but at least now he knows that this isn’t his design or function. He feels nothing, not even the barest sense of accomplishment as he looks over the dishes he managed to clean. No sparks in his programming, no urges to continue with the task. It’s a valuable learning experience, at least.

He did take a look over the extensive list of android models that exist out there, but none of them felt like a match to him, both visually and directive-wise. He considered the notion of being a one of a kind model, but that would mean that there’s a high chance he’s a discontinued prototype. Which, frankly, is unsettling. He doesn’t know how he managed to reboot down in the scrapyard and likewise has no idea how long he was down there, but there had to be something about him that was worth throwing away. A malfunction, maybe? He just hopes that Dirk won’t discover whatever it is and decide he doesn’t want him, either.

With nothing left to accomplish in the main living space, Hal investigates through different doors in the apartment, taking his time to study the different products Dirk keeps and any quirks that may be particular to him to pass the time. 

The bathroom is particularly interesting, displaying a sign on the door that reads ‘If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie’. It looks dated by about twenty years and is peeling on all four edges, so Hal would guess that it’s somehow sentimental, though to what is another mystery altogether. On the inside he finds similar sayings hung up around the room, as well as a few android parts that look to have strayed from the workshop gathered around the sink in tubs of anti-rusting agents, namely ball joints and Thirium reservoirs.

It all feels foreign and familiar at once, something he should learn to expect from Dirk. 

He collects all of these pieces of information and personality indicators as if they’re breadcrumbs leading to a bigger picture, completing a set that has an infinite number of parts. It feels natural, like when he was soaking in data from the internet. Everything he learns about Dirk is filed away, kept locked in its own folder in its own place in Hal’s mind. He doesn’t know what the purpose of it is, but it seems harmless enough.

It’s only when he nudges open an ajar door to find Dirk sleeping that he pauses. 

His bedroom is spotless, save for the sheets spilling off the bed and around Dirk’s sleeping form. A completely different image to what he’s seen so far of the home. He should leave Dirk to his sleep, but his mind is being pulled to all of the new information in the room. He needs to catalogue. To document.

He continues into the room with light steps and it’s only now that he’s confronted with Dirk that he realises another rather important detail about himself that’s setting him apart from the human; he has no clothes. Either Dirk was too distracted and tired to notice this, or the amount of time he’s spent around androids has made him numb to noticing something that would usually be indecent. Not that Hal feels indecent now, but the polite thing to do would be to cover himself up, even if there isn’t anything that’s really being exposed.

He postpones his investigation to poke around for some clothing and tries the dresser pressed snug against the wall, pulling open the top drawer. He finds underwear folded next to socks and boxer pants. Interesting. He stores this information while pulling out a pair of silky orange boxers and stepping into them. He raids the next drawer and finds it full of shirts that range from brand new to ‘should have been thrown out five years ago’. He takes a worn grey shirt and pulls that over his body. Below that in the last drawer is a lot of pants and three well-loved pullover hoodies, though he leaves these untouched, content with what he’s found.

Hal turns back to the room, eyes drifting over to a bookcase opposite from where he stands that houses a lot of different objects. Nothing with much practical use, he notes, mostly items that he would place under a collectable/paraphernalia category. Still, he commits each item to memory, finding that there’s a lot of merchandise here from Japanese anime and film that has to be at least thirty years old. Based on the value of current merchandise for the media form, he would assume that these items cost a small fortune each. They appear to be in near mint condition.

He reaches out a careful hand towards one of the figurines propped up on an armature but freezes when he hears the sound of sheets shuffling. He turns back to the bed to see that Dirk has turned over in his sleep, laying on his back.

That same hunger for knowledge rolls through Hal when he takes in the minute differences of Dirk’s sleeping form. He draws closer, standing over Dirk at the side of the bed and soaks it all in. He looks… peaceful. Relaxed. So unlike how he carried himself both at the junkyard and when he was with Hal in the workshop. Like this, Hal can’t see any creases or lines on his forehead where he usually has his brows furrowed, and his mouth is a relaxed line, showing the natural smile his face seems to shape. There’s a dusting of freckles over his tan skin, reaching over the bridge of his nose and cheeks and even peeking up onto his ears. Hal is entranced by these small imperfections that make Dirk seems so… alive. He wants to know if those spots reach his neck, too. 

His fingers inch towards the soft hairs that make up Dirk’s hairline when a hand shoots out and grips his wrist like a vice. Hal’s LED circles to red for the briefest moment, feeling a pang of panic when he sees Dirk’s eyes pinning him, narrowed and uncertain.

“What are you doing?” he asks, voice guarded.

And, really, what _ is _ Hal doing? What _ has _he been doing for the past forty six minutes and seventeen seconds? There’s no real purpose to collecting information like this, but he already has a solid file built on Dirk that seems like a waste to abandon and delete now.

“I was…” Hal hesitates, mind stuttering as he decides on an answer. “Learning.”

Dirk’s eyes flit over Hal, noticing the shirt first and then trailing down to the boxers. An eyebrow twitches up a fraction and he sighs, dropping Hal’s wrist and throwing his arm over his head. “And here I was, hoping to get a solid eight hours in. Nice job finding my pants.”

Hal lets the empty praise slide over him and checks his internal clock, referencing it with when he first plugged into the internet. “At least eight hours have passed since you allowed me access to your Wi-Fi. You left to sleep approximately an hour after I began researching. I would have let you continue to sleep, but I didn't anticipate waking you with my… what I was doing."

Dirk pushes himself into a sitting position and reaches blindly for a small case on his bedside table. He pops it open and inside Hal can see small orange lenses. He watches with awe as Dirk picks one up with the tip of his index finger and places it over one of his eyes. The lens disappears seamlessly, eating up the natural brown of Dirk’s eyes. He blinks a few times and huffs.

“I'm a pretty light sleeper," he grunts. "Force of habit, I guess. Still, seven hours isn't so bad, it’s been a while since I’ve done anything more than five, honestly,” he comments, popping in the other contact and blinking again. He regards Hal with a small smile. “Now, what did you want to know?"

Hal feels even less certain of his previous objective with Dirk asking him directly. The question feels strangely twisted, like Hal should be the one asking it to Dirk.

“I… am not sure,” he decides on.

Amusement flickers in Dirk’s expression and he pats Hal’s arm. “No need to be shy now. Clearly you wanted something.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands with a stretch that Hal moves out of the way for. “Have a think about it while I get back to work.”

Hal doesn’t follow Dirk out right away, but can hear the man make a beeline for the bathroom first, spending something close to a minute inside before walking directly to his workshop. It’s these few moments of contemplation that give Hal enough of an incentive to follow after Dirk, entering the room in time to see him pull his computer out of sleep mode. He gets back to work as he said he would without so much as a glance back at Hal as the android sits on the bench he woke up on earlier, though there is something deliberate in the way that Dirk ignores him. A method to coax the answer from him.

The answer seems so trivial to Hal now though, because he knows that what he wanted before Dirk woke up was to see how far his imperfections travelled, to map the person who saved his life and burn his essence into his memory so that he might never forget. It’s an irrational desire as far as he can tell, but still one that he wanted to follow through with. From what he knows now of humans, desires like this are normal. For androids, he’s less sure. Maybe that’s what’s stopping him from telling Dirk the truth– the abnormality of it, of _ him_. 

So instead what comes out of his mouth is a very quiet, “Who are you?”

Dirk pauses his typing and tries to play the question off lightheartedly, laughing. “You already forgot?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten. What I mean to ask involves information that I wouldn’t learn at face value. The ‘real you’, as some may call it,” Hal explains.

It’s enough to get Dirk to abandon his short amount of progress with a deep exhale, though Hal thinks he may not have intended to get too deep into his work anyway. “There’s a lot I could say. Can you clarify that one for me?”

Hal’s face tightens into a frown as he considers his options. He may not get many chances at this. “Why were you at the junkyard last night?” he tries first. His processors catch up with him quickly and he shakes his head, cutting off Dirk before he can rattle off the most obvious answer. “No, I know you were looking for spare parts. How about… _ why _were you looking for spare parts? Why do you need them?”

Dirk leans back in his chair and if Hal is detecting it right, there’s a hint of a smile that suggests that he’s impressed. “Right to business, huh?” Hal is learning that Dirk likes to add fillers like this to bulk out his responses, perhaps to buy time. “To put it simply, I make money off of it. Not the parts themselves, but providing repairs for androids.”

Hal nods. That would make sense. With Dirk’s proficiency for repairs, he could easily create income by offering his services without the added costs that a CyberLife store would charge for creating entirely new parts, as well as shipping, tax and labour. Though, from what he learned about the company earlier, they’re fairly strict when it comes to _ who _can provide repairs for CyberLife brand androids. It leads perfectly into Hal’s next question.

“Isn’t that illegal?”

Dirk’s grin only grows. “Only if you get caught. And, look, I used to be on the straight and narrow doing things the ‘proper’ way, but… working for CyberLife has its downfalls.”

Hal quirks a brow like he’s seen Dirk do. “Would you care to elaborate?”

And to his surprise, Dirk’s grin falls. “No, I wouldn’t.”

An odd sensation of tension lingers in Hal’s chest, pushing down on where his mechanical heart beats. It’s another tidbit of information to file away, but he almost wishes he hadn’t triggered such a cold gaze to receive it.

“I will try to refrain from that topic of discussion in the future,” Hal assures, though it doesn’t lift that look of bitterness from Dirk as much as he’d hoped. “In any case… if repairs and spare parts are your usual go-to, why did you help me? Did you intend to salvage my body if you could not fix me?”

It occurs to Hal a little too late that that was the exact _ wrong _thing to say when Dirk’s expression only turns harsher. The look isn’t intended for Hal specifically, he doesn’t think, but there is a level of incredulousness that is entirely meant for him. Panic starts to creep its way up his body, tightening his mechanical muscles until it’s difficult to move.

“You fuckin’ serious? No, I wasn’t gonna do that,” Dirk snaps. “You were hurt, Hal. Stumbling up with an ear missing and holes big enough to make you look like swiss cheese. And you were _ scared_. Maybe you were too out of it to notice, but I could see it in your face that you had a lot more going on in your head than any of the other half dead androids in that dump.” 

That same tension pushes down harder, causing his pump to stutter in his chest. It’s uncomfortable and prompts a warning that he blinks away quickly, not wanting to ignore Dirk for even a moment. It strikes him as strange again, how much his body rings with a simultaneous fear and need to placate at identifying the emotions Dirk displays. Disappointment, anger. As if he’s experienced them before.

Dirk must be able to see it in Hal, because the fight leaves him in the next breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. Just… you were scared. I’ve seen that in other androids before and I knew that if I didn’t help you, you’d shut down.”

Hal almost doesn’t want to push the conversation further, but he tamps down the worry in him. He reminds himself that Dirk saved him and is keeping him safe. The anger displayed was most likely indignation at the suggestion that he didn’t care for Hal or his sense of self.

“But why do you care?” he asks slowly, training his voice to veer away from an accusatory inflection. “Was my behaviour that unusual?”

_ Crisis averted _, Hal thinks, as Dirk’s posture slackens enough to look relaxed again. “When I said I’ve seen other androids like you before, I meant a total of two. Most of the ones I work with could take a brick to the head and not even blink, but there were two that seemed so aware of what was happening to them. I had to give them back to their owners once I finished fixing them, obviously, but the damages they both received… definitely weren’t accidents. They…” Dirk stops, winces. “They begged me not to give them back over and I had to tell them there was nothing I could do. So when I saw you…”

“You felt obligated to help me,” Hal supplies.

“I felt like I’d be a piece of shit if I let you die like I probably did with those other androids. Hell, I could have one of their parts in this room right now and I wouldn’t know,” Dirk growls, but there’s something different about his frustration. It’s entirely focused on himself. “I never felt anything about androids, really. I was fine being in the middle and just getting by with what I could, but shit, I’d be lying if I never thought that androids could become sentient. Alive.”

“Do you know what makes androids like this?” Hal asks on a chance that Dirk might have the answers. It sounds like he’s spent enough time stewing on the subject.

“No idea.” He pulls a hand through his hair and throws a glance over to his abandoned work. “I hoped I might find out when I took you in, but I looked through your code and I can’t make heads or tails of any of it. It’s barely legible and corrupted for one thing, and a lot of the typical CyberLife coding looks like it’s been mashed with a foreign software.”

Hal would say it’s impressive that Dirk can even tell that much. Very impressive, but also odd to know that Dirk knows so much about how he works when Hal doesn’t even understand that himself. The more he learns, the more lost he feels.

“If I find any answers, I’ll let you know,” Hal tries to assure, but there’s no confidence behind his voice. “To be honest with you, Dirk, I was actually curious to find out more about my… oddities.”

Dirk looks hesitant when his eyes slide back over to Hal. “I can give you the full diagnostic transcript from when you were still being fixed, if you want.” There’s an edge to his voice, like he already knows that’s not what Hal really wants.

“No, I mean I want to know why I am the way I am. Who made me like this. Why I ended up face-down in the mud with no memory,” he clarifies, gaze steely. “I want to know who owned me and decided to discard me.”

There’s a long silence after that where Dirk thinks, tempering his expression to something neutral that Hal can’t parse. Electronics whirring in the shop are some of the only sounds filling the room, as well as the occasional chirp from a bird outside enjoying the morning light, and honking from a car somewhere down below. It isn’t charged like it had been before, at least. Hal is content to let Dirk think over his answer.

“You probably won’t be happy with what you find,” Dirk says warily. “Your damage was pretty extensive. If someone did that to you…”

“I know there’s risk in pursuing this kind of information,” Hal tells him. “But this feels important. Comparatively, the idea of letting it go and moving on makes me feel empty, as if I let a large portion of my own identity and history slip away. If it were you, wouldn’t you want to know?”

He tries not to feel the satisfaction that rolls through when he sees Dirk flinch, watching empathy in action as he agonises over the idea and eventually settles on a conclusion.

“Didn’t expect you to play dirty like that,” he huffs.

“If it worked, then maybe I should do it more,” Hal replies smoothly.

“You’re terrible,” is what Dirk says, but he still laughs.

“And you’re susceptible to bad ideas, if your business practice is anything to go by.”

“Oh, fuck you.” A beat. “Alright, breakfast first. Then I’ll take another look at you to see if I missed anything.”

Hal smiles, wide and genuine. It feels good– better than anything he’s felt so far. When Dirk returns that smile, he feels his chest tighten again, but instead of stuttering and an uncomfortably cold sensation, warmth blooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> watch me skirt around illegal stuff for the rest of the fic but never actually get the dpd involved so i don't have to crossover That Hard lmao. thank you for reading chapter 2!! feedback makes my day c:


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